I GAVE MY COAT TO A HOMELESS WOMAN ON CHRISTMAS EVE — 3 YEARS LATER, SHE RETURNED WITH A GRAY CASE & A SMILE I COULDN’T FORGET

When I got to the mall, I waited in our usual spot near the fountain. But she didn’t show up. At first, I thought maybe traffic had held her up, but then my phone rang.

“Is this Mr. Luke?” a man’s voice asked.

“Yes,” I said, my stomach knotting.

“I’m calling from the hospital. Your wife’s been in an accident, sir. You need to come immediately.”

That was the point where my world stopped.

By the time I got to the hospital, it was too late. Jenny had passed away.

One moment, I was buying wrapping paper for our Christmas party, and the next, I was sitting in a sterile hospital room, holding her cold hand and crying like I never had before.

She was gone. My best friend, my partner, my everything. Taken away three days before Christmas.

That was the day Christmas lost its magic for me. I canceled the party, put the decorations back in the attic, and spent the holiday staring at the ceiling, wondering how I’d survive without her.

The worst part? I never got to say goodbye.

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